


Stubborn

by stephanericher



Series: 31 Days of Horoscopes [11]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:07:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: 1/22: Do you feel helpless in the face of problems with technology? If so, you might surprise yourself today, Aquarius. Some software that you use a lot could go haywire, and you won't want to take the time to wait for a professional. Some study could enable you to come up with the solution on your own. Consulting a professional could demonstrate that you're on the right track.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this 31-day challenge is based on the wonderful [31-Day Horoscope Challenge by @icandrawamoth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/621022). Simply: read your horoscope for the day from horoscope.com (Aquarius for me); use it as a writing prompt.
> 
> bear with me on this one, the prompt was difficult

The sound of a shrill beep awakes him, and Kentarou reaches over to turn off the alarm before registering that it is not an alarm at all, and that the bed next to him is empty but still warm. Koujirou absolutely would get up this early to annoy him, but Kentarou’s not going to give into him that easily. Let him get bored with it and find something else to do, like trolling on some games forum or watching a relatively quiet video. Kentarou rolls over and gathers the sheets around him when he hears the beep again.  
  
“Stop it,” Koujirou says.  
  
Kentarou lifts his eye mask. Koujirou’s standing over the desk, looking at the computer like he’s about to start a staring contest with it. Kentarou snorts.  
  
“It won’t turn on,” says Koujirou.  
  
“I told you to use AdBlock on those porn sites,” says Kentarou.  
  
“It’s not my fault,” says Koujirou. He presses the power button; the computer hums to life. It flips to the startup screen; Koujirou begins to enter his password and then a third loud beep sounds and the screen goes blue.  
  
“Right,” says Kentarou. “It’s still under warranty, right?”  
  
“I’m not sending it in,” says Koujirou. “It doesn’t need it.”  
  
Kentarou pulls the sleep mask back down and fluffs his pillow. The next time the computer beeps he tunes it out.

* * *

When he wakes again, there’s no beeping in the background, only the audible hitch of the hard drive spinning and shifting and the fans in the computer on full blast. Koujirou’s sitting down, his back hunched in an arc the way he always sat in high school just to rile up Makoto and set him off on another rant about how sitting with improper posture is detrimental to one’s basketball skills. It’s become more habit by now, but Koujirou doesn’t need Kentarou to tell him it’s bad for him (unless he’s complaining about how his back hurts again).  
  
The screen quietly turns to blue again; Koujirou picks up the computer as if he’s going to throw it down but then sets it back on the desk instead. The screen goes black, and Koujirou sighs theatrically.  
  
“Want coffee?” Kentarou asks.  
  
He sits up and pops his back, yawning. It still feels fucking early even though the sun’s cleared the top of their east-facing window.  
  
Koujirou makes an affirmative sort of sound and turns the computer back on.  
  
“I can call the support line if you don’t want to,” Kentarou calls as he leaves the room.  
  
He doesn’t have to look to know Koujirou’s giving him the finger. It’s a pleasant start to the day, especially once the coffee is percolating and he’s alone in the kitchen, contemplating whether he should make a shot of espresso for his. It would be even better if Koujirou wasn’t so preoccupied with whatever Trojan worm he’s downloaded this time and came out to join him, but you can’t have everything. (If he did come in right now, Kentarou would probably hip-check him into the counter and make him wait for his coffee, but that sadly doesn’t seem to be close to happening.)  
  
He takes the coffee back when it’s done (well, when he’s in the middle of his second cup); Koujirou’s running some sort of disc scan and he barely glances up.  
  
“You’re welcome,” says Kentarou, climbing back into bed.  
  
Still, the look of concentration on Koujirou’s face is adorable, the way he’s biting his lip and stubbornly glaring at the screen.  
  
“You look cute,” Kentarou says.  
  
Koujirou’s shoulders tense and he’s definitely blushing (the way he’s turned his face toward the computer screen does nothing to hide it). Even cuter.

* * *

The next time he wakes up, Koujirou’s back in bed with him. Unfortunately, there’s an unwelcome guest in the form of Koujirou’s laptop blasting its heat all over Kentarou’s leg. The screen’s too bright, and Kentarou pulls the pillow over his face. When he takes it off, Koujirou’s turned the brightness even higher. If Kentarou squints he can sort of make out what’s on the screen, Task Manager in one window and a file browser in the other. He watches Koujirou for a few seconds to confirm what he thinks he’s seeing, and then does a terrible job of not laughing.  
  
Koujirou is manually going through every file on the hard drive, checking its statistics and searching on the internet whether it’s supposed to be there. He doesn’t know if he’s more shocked that Koujiou’s actually taking that precaution rather than deleting everything and having to reformat the drive, or that he’s going through the trouble of doing this in the first place. Even for him, this is a little more stubborn than usual.  
  
“Did you find it?” Kentarou says.  
  
“Yes,” says Koujirou.  
  
He’s still looking, though, probably because he didn’t find it and not just to cover all of his bases. He clicks on another folder, then another one inside of it. Depth-first search, huh? (Koujirou’s never taken a computer science class; he’d just blink if Kentarou said anything.) He doesn’t even bother to check one folder, just deletes the entire thing. The repetitive motion of his clicking is soothing, and it almost lulls Kentarou back to sleep. But he wants to see how the whole thing plays out, and it can’t be much longer.  
  
It’s not; either Koujirou’s looked at everything or he’s gotten bored of it; either way he empties the recycle bin and reboots the machine. There’s no bluescreen at startup; the computer chugs along as it loads the desktop and when Koujirou checks the running processes he seems almost pleased.  
  
“Knew you could do it,” says Kentarou, reaching over to pat Koujirou’s hip.  
  
Koujirou ignores him, but Kentarou’s expecting it. It’s pretty cute, anyway, so Kentarou goes ahead and buries his face in Koujirou’s thigh, still patting his other hip. A few seconds later Koujirou hits his forehead with the corner of the laptop, actually pretty hard.  
  
“My bad,” Koujirou says.  
  
Kentarou grumbles and rubs his forehead, and then pretends to go to sleep. A few seconds later, Koujirou’s closed the laptop and set it aside, and then he pulls the covers up over them both. And a short while after that, they’re both really asleep again.


End file.
